


A Quest

by ReallyEleanor



Category: Reddit Writing Prompt - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Writing prompt sub Reddit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24728815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReallyEleanor/pseuds/ReallyEleanor
Summary: Response to "A dragon shows up at the adventurers' guild after hearing that humans will just GIVE away gold for something called a 'quest.'"  Posted by u/Kaleon June 2020.





	A Quest

What was that smell? Oh, yeah. Another one. One of those bipedal critters. The outside was always a little tough, but once you peeled that part off, it was tender and juicy inside. Usually. Some tasted better than others. I turned around quickly and surprised it.

“AAAAAAAA!” A piercing scream rent the silence. Those smelly things sure could be loud! And the echo in this cave was deafening.

I reached out one talon and snagged it. It struggled, but it wasn’t going anywhere. I had it pinned to the floor. I sighed. I’d been in the middle of a wonderful dream (man, her scales were nicely arranged, if you know what I mean) when the smell of this thing woke me up.

“STOP! STOP! LET ME GO!” it shouted. 

Hmm. This one was articulate. Mostly, they just screamed. Okay. It’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation, much less an intelligent one (not many dragons or wizards around anymore). I’ll ‘bite.’ I love puns.

“Why should I stop?” I asked it.

That shut it up. It did not expect me to talk. Alas, no one ever does.

The—what do they call it? Helmet? Yeah, helmet, flopped apart and I could see its face. This one was ghostly white, dripping with sweat, and had a terrified expression. I get that all the time.

How can something be terrified and agape at the same time? It managed it, though. Impressive. I didn’t think they were intelligent enough to be that expressive.

“You—but—how—what?” it stammered out the question.

“I’m a dragon. We’re smart, remember?” I snarked. Duh. “Why should I stop?” I repeated.

It took a minute (you could see the wheels turning and smell the gears grinding in its tiny brain) but it finally came back with, “We can make a deal.”

Not a bad comeback. “I’m interested. Lay it on me.” I don’t remember where I picked up that saying, but I liked it and I never get to use it.

It was still shaking, but not quite so much, and it choked out, “I’m on a quest.”

A quest? Go on a difficult journey to somewhere that no one wants to see with the possibility of dying for not a great reward. One of THOSE interminable things. Whoopee. Don’t these critters take vacations?

“Not impressed.” I moved closer with my mouth open. I was a little peckish and this one looked easy to peel.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” it cried. “I’ll give you half of the gold!”

NOW he had my attention. Gold. Not like I don’t have a good-sized hoard now, but one can always accommodate more. This is a big cave. “I’m listening.”

“I’m a Quickie Quester.” It seemed proud of this.

A what? _Quickie_ Quester? Quests were not what I thought of when I heard ‘quickie.’ 

“I understand quest,” I said, “But **what** is a Quickie Quester?”

“Adventurers’ Guild, but we have time limits. The faster you accomplish your quest, the more gold you get.” His words came out fast. “If I get back with one of your shed scales in less than two days, I get an additional 75%. Three days, 50%. six days, I only get 50% of the original. By the seventh day, IF you come back, you get nothing. You get the idea.”

I did get the idea. “What’s the base payout?” I asked.

“It’s 100 gold sovereigns, so 175 if I get back by” it looked at his wrist, “7:30 tonight. With all that rain last weekend, it took me longer than I thought it would to ford the river.” It added an afterthought, “And I get 50,000 base Adventure Points. When I get to 150,000, I get 50 gold sovereigns. And a toaster.” He really sounded excited about that toaster. “I’m only 78,243 points away.” 

“A shed scale?” I had a shit ton of those in the corner. I didn’t need them, but they had their uses for these critters. Something about mystical properties and a hefty percentage of tungsten in the composition. Meh. I don’t have a use for them, except…

“What if you bring back more than one?” I asked.

“Well, I get double if I bring back two, but that’s the limit.” Again with the quick delivery. 

Hmmm… This had possibilities. _**I**_ could go on quests. I was going to burn and pillage anyway, so I might as well get paid for it. I asked, “Can anyone join the Adventurers’ Guild? I mean, could I join?”

Now it looked astounded. Puzzled. Taken aback. Flabbergasted. 

“Can I join?” I asked again. “Do you have a copy of the bylaws?” There were always written rules when you were dealing with money and percentages. Bankers. Sheesh.

Bankers _are_ pretty tender, but all that fat plays havoc with my cholesterol.

“I do. I do have a copy,” it said. It made to move his hands toward its belt wherefrom hung his sword, and I hissed a little smoke. Not dangerous, but it didn’t know that.

“I’m just going to reach carefully into my belt pouch,” it said, showing its finger and thumb pinched together. It pulled out a folded parchment scroll. I bet their librarian would give it hell for folding the scroll like that. You know how they get about their scrolls.

It unfolded the parchment and started skimming. “Mission statement, subgroups, banking information,” it mumbled, “Ah, here it is. Membership.”

“And?” I asked a bit impatiently.

It read in a sing-song voice, “Membership fee is 250 gold sovereigns. Applications are available on our Website. Membership in the Adventurers’ Guild is open to anyone of any race, creed, color, sex, religion, etc. We are an equal-opportunity guild and do not discriminate. If you feel you have been denied membership based on a discriminatory act, please report it to… The rest is EEO boilerplate. You get the idea,” it added.

Hmmm… Well, boys, looks like I’m joining the Adventurers’ Guild. The chicks are going to dig this. Don’t they always like the ‘bad boys’ best?

“Okay. I’m in,” I told him. I pulled out the talon and it squeaked inside the metal wrapping.

“What?” It was too stunned to run away.

“I want to join. Half of 350 gold sovereigns will go nicely in that chest over there. Go get two of them. Scales. The red ones. In the back corner.” I gestured with my head to the musty back corner where I kept my valueless junk. “If I fly you back, we can be there in an hour or so. Well under the deadline for the 75%.

It walked slowly and carefully over to where I pointed, never turning its back to me. I heard it rummaging around and finally it came back with the scales—and a broken crossbow.

“May I have this?” it asked.

“You know that won’t work on me, right?” I gave it a look. I remembered that one. It’d put up quite a fight, but that puny little crossbow was no match for my hide.

“Yeah. I figured.” He smiled. “This belonged to Ethelred Elderberry. There’s a reward for information about his whereabouts. Another 100 gold sovereigns.”

“I get half,” I insisted. “I know his whereabouts. In my stomach.” Several years ago, so I’d probably eliminated him by now. If you get my drift. There was a pile of that out back. 

“Okay, look. If I’m going to give you a ride, and we’re going to be partners, I can’t keep calling you ‘it.’ I’m guessing you have a name.” I would deign to call it by its name. Prove I was trustworthy. I’ve heard these critters have a hard time eating the things they name; maybe they’d believe I’d feel the same way. And some dragons do keep pets. Usually the female critters. They smell better.

It puffed out its chest. “I’m Pud Aloysius Haggleburger. The fourth.”

Good heavens. “Your parents hated kids, didn’t they? When they named them?”

“Yours probably isn’t much better,” he came back. “Smaug, Toothless, Jabberwocky, Eustace Scrubb.”

“I’ll have you know my name is quite elegant.” I stuck my nose up in the air. “Ricardo. Ricardo Sylvestri.” I paused for effect. “But my friends call me Rico. Rico Suave.” I deserved that reputation, by the way, and I was proud of it.

“Rico Suave?” He laughed. “Damn!”

“Alright, get your stuff together and let’s blow this popsicle stand.” Another of the expressions I never get to use.

Carefully, Pud climbed up. A step on my toe, a hoist up to my knee, a climb to my back. He? settled between two of my spines. “Hey! Watch it!” I exclaimed. I turned around and shot him a look. I wanted him to think it hurt. It actually tickled, but I wasn’t telling him that.

I walked to the mouth of the cave, and I could feel Pud jostling on my back. When we were clear of the opening, I vaulted gracefully into the air, spread my wings, and took off on the downbeat. Pud let out a stifled scream.

Flying. I love it. There’s no feeling quite like it.

An hour later, we were flying over the edge of Pud’s town just under the two-day time limit. Punctuality matters. It had been a couple of centuries since I’d hunted here, so there was more astonishment than fright in the faces looking up at me.

I circled around and landed in a field near the Adventurers’ Guild building. Damn, that was nice digs. Bricks, marble, slate roof. Landscaped. Patio with a grill, and a pool with a swim-up bar. Posh.

What? Dragons can swim. We have pools. You call them ‘lakes.’ Minnesota is one of my favorite tourist spots.

Pud slipped off and started walking to the front door. “This way,” he motioned.

By now, we were gathering a crowd. Male and female critters were coming outside to see us, but there weren’t any younglings. At least they’re protective of their young, but dragons have to be desperate or mean to go after them. Those small things aren’t even appetizer sized. 

Pud marched right up to this man(?) in trousers and a gaudy jacket with some kind of crest on the chest. It looked like a stylized ‘AG.’ ‘President Louie’ was written in script below the crest.

Pud spoke first. He stepped forward and proclaimed, “I have completed my quest. TWO scales. RED ones.” He was proud of his accomplishment. “Red is a 10% premium. Pay up.”

I knew the red ones were rarer. I always thought it was hilarious. They grind up the red ones and use them to color fireworks. An extra 10%. Nice. I like fireworks.

The president just stood there. Gaping. Sheesh. You’d think he’d never seen a dragon before.

My turn.

“I want to join your guild,” I announced.

More silence. Then I heard some of them whispering from the crowd behind me. They were getting closer so I swished my tail. That backed them right off. I was more worried about stepping on one. Sometimes they get stuck between my toes. Or their hair gets caught in a talon. Yuk.

It took a while, but President Louie was regaining his composure. “Ummm… We don’t admit dragons,” he said, finality in his voice.

“You have to do,” I countered. I’d had Pud read the full bylaws document while we flew. “There’s nothing in the rules that says I can’t join. I have the membership fee.” Mommy always told me to keep some sovereigns under a scale in case I needed to use the payphone.

Pause. Again, wheels turning, gears grinding. “We have to vote on admitting members,” Louie choked out. 

True. That was in the bylaws. Simple solution: “If you vote against me, I’ll destroy your building, steal your gold. And eat you.” 

President turned and looked at the people standing around him. “All in favor?” he asked.

“Aye,” everyone responded in a tense chorus.

President Louie turned back to me. “You’re in.” He thought about it for a minute. “Now, what’s your name, for the membership certificate, and where do we pin the badge?”

“Ricardo Sylvestri,” I announced. “You can weld the badge on this scale.” I pointed at my left breast. Weld? Yes. I’m fireproof, remember?

President turned to someone and ordered, “Go get a badge and a welder. Pronto.”

I was in. Gold, here I come. I had a thought. Should I? I am something of a smart ass.

I couldn’t resist. 

“Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”


End file.
